


Black Sails: The Treasure of Captain Flint (Prequel One-Shot)

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Series: Black Sails: The Treasure of Captain Flint [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Age Difference, Based on a bigger storyline, Bi-Sexual, Black Sails - Freeform, Character Development, Character Establishment, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One-Shot, Pirates, Prequel, Sexual Content, Smut, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:56:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: This is a smut one-shot (and a little bit of character development) from my bigger Black Sails planned fic. I started writing it years ago when the show first aired but have only just started getting the confidence to share my writing with the fanfic community: so here you go, a smut one-shot featuring Captain Flint (bisexual icon) and an original female character named Mollie who will get more development and not exist just for smut in another, more planned out fic.This is set three years before Black Sails. Yes, there is a rather big age gap between Flint (probably about 38 in this scene) and Mollie (19 in this scene) but this is also the 18th century when women were married off at about 12, so historically it's fairly accurate. Plus they're pirates and I'm pretty sure there are no rules.Enjoy!
Relationships: Captain Flint / Original Female Characters
Series: Black Sails: The Treasure of Captain Flint [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626721
Kudos: 10





	Black Sails: The Treasure of Captain Flint (Prequel One-Shot)

Mollie awoke with a start and looked around her. The surroundings were unfamiliar: ornately different from what she was used to, ragged, with a strong smell of the sea laced with fine wine. Her dark eyes squinted at the far wall and she was surprised to see it lined with leather-bound tomes. She was laid out still in her under-dress on a straw mattress on a makeshift cot in the corner, her usually kempt dark hair escaping from its braid in waves over her shoulders. This was the Captain’s quarters, there was no denying that.

Pain surged through her and she winced as she lay back on the bed. Every fibre of her being was aching after being beaten for so long by the man she had called her husband, but he was gone now. She was liberated, though she wasn’t entirely sure she was free. Neither her wrists nor ankles were bound but she still did not like the surroundings.

She tentatively placed a hand on her abdomen and felt the hard round welt through the cloth of where the bullet had lodged inside her. She did not remember it being removed and imagined it must have been done when she had been unconscious. She wondered who could have done it with such skill, and furthermore how they had looked upon her bruised and naked body without taking advantage. Perhaps everything she had been told about pirates had been wrong.

The door opened and Mollie gasped, followed by a wince as pain surged through her. The man who entered was almost middle-aged with red hair and a gloomy, scarred yet handsome face. He carried a basin and fresh linen and he set it down on the table before shutting and locking the door. He was dressed in a dark grey shirt and black leather trousers that hugged him, his knife and sword at his belt but all other ceremony stripped away. He was very handsome and Mollie recognised him as the man who had saved her from her husband.

He noticed that she was awake and watching him. He offered her a small nod of the head in acknowledgement and held up his hands to stop her as she began to inch away from him. She instantly regretted the movement.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He promised with a believable and earnest expression. He kept his distance as Mollie panted heavily. There was a pause as she looked upon him and he patiently waited for her to calm her breathing before speaking again. “What is your name?” His words flowed like silk from his lips and Mollie noticed small freckles spread over his nose.

“Mary.” She said, and then shook her head as though she had made a mistake, “Erm, Mollie. Mollie Allardyce.”

“Captain Flint.” Flint replied with a small smile.

Mollie gasped and fear flooded her face once more. She had heard all she needed to hear about the seven seas most bloodthirsty pirate captain, but Flint shook his head as he read her expression. “You have nothing to fear from me, I promise.”

“I’m supposed to believe you?” She asked, “Just like that?”

Flint chuckled. “I suppose not. But I am the one who removed that bullet from your stomach. You’re lucky the old man was such a shit shot.”

“He never could aim.” Mollie replied with a small smile at their shared joke at her dead husband’s defence. “I’m glad to be rid of him, I don’t mind saying.”

“He did seem to be unsavoury.” Flint turned his back on her and began to soak the linen in the basin. “How old are you, Mollie?” He asked smoothly as Mollie watched his fingers work deftly. He was good with his hands, though she supposed that came with being a skilled pirate.

“Nineteen.” Mollie replied in a quiet voice. She felt at ease in Captain Flint’s presence, though she could not explain why.

“How many years have you been married to the late Captain Astley?”

Mollie frowned at the back of him as she watched him work, wondering how he had made the connection that she was Moses’ wife and not any other relation. “How did...” She started, then realised he had probably been tailing the ship for a long time and it was probably best not to argue with the man who could well be her captor. “Five years.” She replied darkly.

“And how long has he been beating you?” Flint spoke calmly but Mollie could tell his face was stormy just from the way he held his shoulders, angered by Moses’ misogyny.

“Five years.” She repeated. She barely knew the man and already she trusted him more than she had trusted her own husband.

Flint turned to her slowly, the soaked linen in his hands, and approached the bed. She braced herself but did not move away as he pulled up a stool beside the cot and perched upon it. “You need not fear him anymore.” Flint said with kindness in his oceanic eyes. “Neither I nor my men will lay a finger on you without your permission.”

Mollie could not help but frown at him. This was the least that she had expected from such a notorious pirate captain. He held up the rags with nothing but business in his eyes.

“May I survey and clean your wound?” He asked.

Mollie, still awestruck, nodded dumbly.

She held her body as tightly as she could through the pain as Flint’s deft fingers unlaced the front of her dress and pulled it open enough to view the wound on her stomach. His eyes barely glanced at her breasts as he concentrated on the site of the entry wound. She held the material out of the way as he set about cleaning and dressing her injury.

For a long time he worked in silence, his lips pursed in concentration, and Mollie watched his face as she tried to understand the anomaly of a pirate sat before her.

“Why did you choose _The Mercy_?” She asked eventually. Flint glanced at her as his brow furrowed.

“What do you mean?” Flint asked curtly.

“As a prize?” Mollie pushed, “There must be plenty of small merchant vessels with grubby captains in these waters.”

“We’ve been tailing her for a while.” Flint replied, “Gates, my Quartermaster, had old dealings with your late husband. A debt to be paid.”

Mollie’s heart flipped in panic. “With Moses?”

“Yes.”

“And...” She hesitated, “That’s paid now?”

Flint looked at her as he understood her panic. His hands were rough and warm on the skin of her stomach as he simply left them placed there in order to answer her with his full attention.

“You have nothing to fear from us.” He repeated, “I promised you, and I meant it. I’m a man of my word. The debt was paid with Astley’s ship and his life. Gates is satisfied, you are not a prize but simply a guest.” Flint said firmly.

Mollie looked away from him in shame as he stared her down. “I apologise.”

“No need.” Flint replied as he returned to her wound. For a few more moments he worked in silence. When he had finished he gently covered her breasts with her dress and she began to lace up. Gingerly, and with his help steering her arm, she sat up. “How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Sore.” She replied truthfully, “But I’ll live.” She gave him a warm smile of thanks as she cleaned his bloodied hands.

“I’m sure.” Flint said with a lingering look at her face. There was no denying her beauty. He cleared his throat as she blushed at his expression. “Once we make port then you are free to go.”

Mollie felt her heart flip a little and she found herself shaking her head. Flint frowned at her.

“What if I don’t want to leave?” She asked.

Flint stared at her again as he wondered whether she had read his own expression. “Why would you not want to leave?”

Another moment passed between them as Mollie thumbed the material of the lacings at the front of her dress.

“I know it is bad luck to have a woman aboard,” She gabbled, suddenly feeling flustered under his eyes, “But I’m a good sailor. On _The Mercy_ I may have been viewed as simply the captain’s wife but I paid attention, I learned.” She closed her mouth for a moment as she looked at him appealingly, “I love being at sea, Captain Flint, and I’m a good surgeon. My father was a physicist back in Bristol. I grew up watching him, too. I really am good, and I heard your man before saying your doctor had died and...” She took a deep breath and spoke slowly and tentatively, “Could I not... join... your crew?”

There was a long pause in which Flint surveyed her face and considered all the possibilities. On the one hand it would save him having to find a new surgeon, if what she said was true, but on the other it would divide the already divided men. A woman? What if they went against his orders and decided to rape her... would she survive it? She seemed to be headstrong and defiant and maybe, just maybe, she would be what _the Walrus_ needed...

“I can’t guarantee the men will accept you.” Flint said.

Mollie’s face broke into a smile so big it warmed his heart and he couldn’t help but smile back in a way that he had not experienced for many, many years.

“They’ll accept me when I stop them from losing a leg.” Mollie chuckled. Flint laughed, unable to argue.

Their eyes met and their smiles faded. Slowly Flint stood up and Mollie’s eyes followed him as he stood above her. Her legs hung off the edge of the cot and she was breathing shallowly as he looked down at her. They both knew what he wanted, what he was silently asking her.

“It’s okay,” She breathed as she read it in his eyes, “I want you to.”

There was a hesitant pause as Flint thought about what he was about to do. Then tentatively he leant down and slotted his hand at the side of her head, inclining her chin in order to kiss her softly on the lips. It was like no kiss she had ever felt before. He knew how to use his lips, his tongue... and she found herself sinking into the embrace and sliding her own hands into his hair.

Before she knew it she had unbuckled his belt and his knife and sword clunked to the wooden floor with a heavy thud. Wanting him with primal desire, she lay back down on the cot and the captain crawled on top of her, his rough hands sliding up her cocked leg so that the hem of her dress slid up around her waist. His breathing was ragged as he bore down upon her.

She let him gently trace his fingertips up her leg and body, the fingers of his other hand deftly unlacing her dress once more. As her breasts were freed his big, rough hand cupped them with raw yet delicate power and he pressed his lips into hers again.

She could feel him between her legs straining through his trousers. His fingers stroked the entrance to her pussy and, with a small gasp of agreement, slid inside her so that she gasped again. He knew how to use his fingers to make her moan.

Her fingers pulled at his shirt, heaving it up and over his head with ease and tracing her fingers lightly down his back, her nails digging in further with each stroke of her pussy. He grunted in her ear and traced her jaw with his kisses, heading down her neck and nibbling lightly as he moved to her breasts. Her husband had never made love to her like this. It felt nice to be appreciated, to be explored by a man who knew what he was doing. Already she was feeling things she had never felt before.

His fingers slid out of her and he unlaced his own trousers. His eyes met hers as he slid out of the waistline and, with a moment to look upon him, she instinctively closed her fingers around his commanding length. He grunted again as she began to work his cock, his mouth returning to her breast as he bit and sucked her nipple in ecstasy.

She let out a moan as she felt him react beneath her fingers, spurring her on. He whispered her name in her ear and she arched her back a little, as much as the pain would allow, in order to tell him she wanted him inside her. He gently pulled himself out of her grip and she spread her legs wider, inviting him in. His strong arms held him above her body as he pushed inside her.

She threw back her head and bit her lip as she moaned. He entered her so slowly that every fibre of her being ignited like a flint to a fire. He dragged his hands down her arms and hooked beneath her shoulders so that he might push himself deep inside her, then pulled out tantalisingly slow to begin with.

She gripped his back and clawed his skin just to have something to hold on to as he pushed into her again, repeating the motion until she would have done anything for him. She came for the first time in her life as he quickened the pace slightly, throwing her head back and crying out so that he was forced to put a hand over her mouth. She had never felt pleasure like this.

As he continued to work her, taking pleasure from her pleasure, she came again and again as he clutched her. Somehow their bodies just worked with each other in a way he had never felt with another woman: not even Miranda. He could feel a connection with Mollie already. As she came for a fourth time under his guidance he erupted along with her, planting a single last bite on her nipple as he pulled out and lay beside her, both of them panting and his fingers tracing her nipple only slightly as she shook from the aftershocks.

The fog of pleasure cleared a little and Mollie realised something as she watched his finger on her breast.

“What’s your first name?” She asked with a small smile.

“James.” He replied. “Though you can call me Jim.”


End file.
